Broken Glass

Reflection glaring back at me,

I hate what you’ve become

An empty husk, and broken remnant of ties undone

The wrathful, pitiful, haunting specter lingering on

Wailing, and weeping for a treasure now long gone

I loathe your form, but find compassion in knowing a heart so bitterly torn

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Cut me up, and bleed me dry

No matter how much I scream and cry, here I am

Standing over the shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Even when my body is scattered to the wind,

here I am

Reflection of the other me, the image of no true wealth

A vision of all that I see wrong in myself

The weak soul, unable to crawl

One left wallowing, and pitying after every fall

I despise your appearance, but find sympathy in a mind so depressed

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Cut me up, and bleed me dry

No matter how much I scream and cry,

here I am

Standing over the shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Even when my body is scattered to the wind, here I am

Standing over shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Projecting a broken up, and mangled creature

A magnified depiction of every unattractive feature

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Reflection grinning back at me,

I know what you are

Desperate shade, hiding painful scars

Lacking, longing, empty spirit drifting by

Waiting, asking, begging to truly die

I abhor your presence, but find understanding in a soul left bleeding

Standing over shards of broken glass, here I am

Break me down, a bury me deep

Allow me rest, allow me sleep

Even when the maggots come,

Here I am, standing over these shards of broken glass. “

Time Stop

I want to stop time and catch my breath. Just a little moment to step back from the sadness,

A chance to step away from the pain.

I want to be free again.

Open to do as I please in my own little world that doesn’t move; a quiet place to relax and rest.
I want to stop time and take it all in.

The stars, the roses, even the little ants on the hill.

This fast-paced world has lost its thrill, but I want more than a world that’s just simple and slow.

I want a world that does not go.

Oh, how I long to be still.
I want to stop and reconnect.

To halt everything, and capture all the scattered pieces— the shards that cannot run.

I want to stop time and be free.

In this motionless space where I can be me.

I want to stop and make it all mine.

I want it all to stay, I want to stop time.

When The World

When the world comes crashing down, who will be there to catch it?
When the seas run dry, will you be there to refill them, or will the tears be the source?
When the forests die, how will the world breathe?
Can trembling hands plant new seeds?

When the world starts to fall, who will pick it up and help it turn again?
When the volcanoes roar, will you be there to calm its rage, or will deaths be the sedative?
The mountains crumble away, and the dust spreads on winds that soon die.
Chaos rules, and discord thrives. Order lost with broken ties.

When the world ends, does it ever start again?
Does the void consume all within?
When the darkness wins, who will let the light be?
Will it be you, when it can’t be me?

Unfree

Free me from my chains.
Let me go, and fly away.
A meager soul, even smaller heart.
The remains of being torn apart.

Challenge me, force me to rise beyond.
I watch the time, it’s almost gone.
At the breaking point, singing the bleakest song.

For naught, and nil.
Slowing down with waning will.
Forsaking wisdoms, embracing passion and the irrational.
Settling into the discomfort of being unknown.
Out of my own mind and body it feels I am thrown.

The wicked thoughts are hunting me.
Lusting after the sanctity of the little tranquility I hold.
Robbing me blind, and beating me deaf.
I see no hope, I hear no whispers of comfort.
There is no chance for succor, the darkness remains bold.

Wilting like a flower in its final days.
Defeat sets in, and on the shoulders it stays.
Burning sun, it’s sting etched deep into the skin.
Only vaguely compares to the burning within.
Take me down now, I need my rest.
Free me from my chains, my one request.

The Ignorant Myself

Ignorant of my true self as my heart bleeds.
The bitter taste of regret lingers.
Hands tremble with the terror of revelation.
Eyes dilate to take in the light that isn’t there.
A voice that is both coarse and dry, Echoes on in frigid air.

Ignorant of my true self as my heart bleeds.
The scornful look, the constant my mind sees.
Tripping up at every step,
The stairs are too thin and too steep to climb.
And fall, not down, but up in flames.
Passing it here, there, and everywhere the blame.

Ignorant of my true self as my heart bleeds.
The pale empty look, the upside down memory.
Painting in the ink of the forgotten.
The shapes twist and bend into the grotesque.
Beyond the recognition, beyond the doubt.
The lines blur together, coherence without.

Ignorant of my true feelings as my heart dies.
Mistaken moths for butterflies.
Breeding infestation,
Confusing the beauty with the bleak.
Only grim words does this mouth speak.

Morbid, and black,
But not uncomfortable.
Crooked and warped,
Yet strangely familiar.

Ignorant of my true self as my heart bleeds.
The bitter taste of regret lingers,
But the sensations ease.
Hands tremble with the terror of revelation,
But the tremors calm.
Eyes dilate to take in the light that isn’t there,
And soon radiance seen.
A voice that is both coarse and dry,
Echoes on in frigid air.
It fears not, nor knows despair.
Embrace me now, with vengeful glare.
I know myself, and this is me.

The Silence of Solitude

Silence in solitude.
A moment’s passing,
But not a sound.

Tranquility in loneliness.
The comforting focus of the self.
The thoughts, the time.
None but my own.

Freedom in space.
Bound to no hand.
Waiter to no command.
Lead by I, myself, and me.

Pride in privacy.
Confined and innermost secrets,
Both sacred and dark.
None to tell, none to hear.
Perfection is near.

Relief in the detachment.
Escaping all, and leave the world behind.
The peak of peace, of heart and soul.

Rest in seclusion.
Appeased by separation from the crowd.
The hive swarms the flower, but drone no more.
To the light of the sun now.
Relaxing, warm.

Blessings of isolation.
It’s all one could need.
The charms of reclusiveness,
So it seems to be.

Dearly Beloved

You can’t always see the stars shine at night. They seem so dim, as if they’re about to fade. And yet, you stay, waiting for them to burn bright.

I can’t give you their light, but I fight to bring you the sun.
To shun the dark, to end the night. The weight of the universe weighs down on my back, and my heart is about to crack. I know you see, the burden it is to me.

I want to make you believe.
The shadow here, the empty space.
It comes and goes, when memory’s wave flows.

I’m not lost, just burning low.
No smile, no glow.
But my voice is clear.
To you, my dear: Please hold on.
Don’t miss me, I’m not gone.

The Always

It just… always escapes me.
Forever far. Forever fleeting.
The stars never seem to line up.

The world never spins my way.
Aways running. Always racing.
The harmony is never in sync.

It just…always escapes me.
Infinitely distant. Intimately scarce.
It pains me to say, the scale is never even, never in line.

The circles all look square.
Hatefully out of reach. Painfully untouchable. The shapes are never what they really are, or what they need to be.

I always wonder where they are.
The scattered pieces. The spilled out feelings. Broken up across the plain.
I can’t remember when they were the same.

It just… always escapes me.
In my hands, then out of mind.
It just… always escapes me.
Friends for a breath, strangers the next. It just… always escapes me.
Changing with the tide, ever expanding our divide. It just… always escapes me.

Dance of Moon and Sun

Beating hearts of two and one.
Overflowing passions, and lust. The ever-looming threat of temptation between Moon and Sun. Forbidden feelings, the allure of sin. Ignoring all, for the pleasures that hide within, and behind the closed doors.

Blood, bonded. Shaking, shifting, quaking floors. Screams, moans.
The sounds that wake the bones.
Beauty in the corrupt arts. The longing from Moon to Sun, and in opposite turn, does the Sun’s heart burn. The kiss, the touch, soon starts.

Pin down, pull down and enter in.
The haunting melody, the cursed hymn. Exciting, motivating, encouraging the thrust. Giving it all, and pushing the trust. Tied down, tied up, and deeper still. Tormented by the heart turned ill. It pours out, and flows in. The proof of lust, the proof of sin.

Intertwined, intermingled, the sharing of one sky. The two repeat their dance, and forget the time. Sun and Moon, together still. Overcome in the moment, slaves to the feel.

Prelude to Insanity

Prelude to insanity.

I am weak and empty.
The spirits leave me.
I want to run away,
To chase after the scattered pieces,
But my legs refuse to move.

I am desperate and incomplete.
The heart rejects me.
I want to cry all day,
To wash out the sorrows,
But the rivers run dry.

Prelude to insanity.

I am cold and tired.
My feeling is lost.
I have clawed my way through time.
Every moment is a struggle in the present that doesn’t exist.
Hopelessness.

I am silent and drifting.
My voice abandoned me.
I cannot scream, I cannot yell.
Every echo rings nothingness to me,
And I’m scared.
Muteness overtaking.
Frightened and shaking.

Prelude to Insanity.

Breaking away into the monster that I am inside.
Running through the land, hunting, clawing, killing… Genocide.
Purge one, purge all.
Leave no soul, every soul to fall.

Tripping up at every step
Gasping, taking in futile breath.
Prelude to insanity.
Melt, and fade.
Prelude to insanity.
I’ve lost my way.